Boyfriend for the Weekend

Chapter 33: Better Late than Never

AVA

 

That may have been juvenile, but I needed it. With all the pent up frustrations coursing through my body, I needed the outlet.

Oliver remained silent as we walked back to his car. I’m guessing he’s as surprised as I am with my own actions back in there.

 

“Do you want to go somewhere else right now?” He asks cautiously, as if afraid that I would blow up on him.

“I want to go home, I’m tired.”

 

Oliver just nods and we drive away in silence. I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t know how to handle me either if I was in his shoes.

 

We arrive in my apartment to find that we have visitors.

“Mr. and Mrs. Baron. It’s a surprise seeing you two here.” Oliver greets them as we step inside. He courteously shook my father’s hand and kissed my mother’s cheek. Much to her delight.

 

“Hello Oliver. We’re glad to see you’re taking care of our daughter really well.” Father says with his charming smile.

 

“Dad? Mom? What are you two doing here?”

Slowly, I began to calm down because I have to.

“I will just go to the kitchen and prepare dinner. Would you two like to join us?” Oliver asks, trying to dilute the tension that was slowly building up in my apartment.

 

“Yes, we would love to,” Mother replied.

 

Involuntarily, my eyes rolled themselves at her and her “interest” in my life.

“Ava.” My father warns, seeing the circular motion my eyes just performed.

I ignored him because I’m no longer eight years old.

 

“We were informed you went to see Robert and Camilla today.” My father began. His steel gray eyes were looking straight into mine and I have no idea where this is going.

 

“And?”

“May I ask why you felt the need to grace them with your presence?” My father only talks like this when he’s angry and now, I’m scared.

“I had some things to say.” I reply, standing my ground.

 

I thought my father was going to launch himself into a screaming fit but he didn’t.

Instead, he stepped closer to me and held my arms.

“You’re not an angry person. I know you’ve been hurt and Todd is in the hospital. This is a lot to take in. But you have to be strong. Don’t sink to their levels, darling. You are better than that.”

 

“But dad, what if he--”

“Don’t. What do we always say, Ava?”

I nod, holding back the tears that were stinging my eyes.

“Hope for the best, expect the worst,” we said in unison.

My father smiles, helping lift a little bit of weight off my shoulders.

“That’s my girl.”

 

He puts his arm over my shoulders and leads me to the living room.

“Now, is Oliver really a great cook? Because his mother would not stop talking about it.”

 

I notice my mother sit quietly on one of the chairs, placing her bag on the table.

“Yeah, he’s amazing, dad.”

 

My father and I talked for about an hour before Oliver finally emerges from the kitchen, calling us for dinner.

 

I’ve never had family dinner in my place before since my father always insists that we have it in the mansion, so this is unfamiliar territory to me. My father relates well with others, it’s my mother I’m apprehensive about. She’s always so stoic, almost devoid of emotions but to my surprise, my mother engaged in conversation as if she was actually interested.

What is going on?

I could hardly enjoy this seemingly wonderful family dinner because of how strange all of this is.

 

Oliver, on the other hand, managed to charm both their socks off with his personality and cooking, eliminating most of the awkwardness that hung in the air.

 

The men were talking on and on about sports while I got up to clean the table. My mother, who never does any kind of housework, whatsoever, joins me in cleaning up.

 

After the table is empty, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“What do you want, mom?” I blurt out.

 

“What do you mean, Ava?” she asks, her brown eyes have dulled but her beauty remains. Her dark hair and prominent cheekbones were passed on to us and the rest of our features have become a mix of hers and father’s.

Somehow, I always identified with my father more and rarely with her. She’s just always so distant.

 

“Why are you here? How come you’re suddenly so interested in my life? You never have been before.”

She sighs and steps closer to me.

One thing about my mother and I is that we don’t do affection. She hardly ever expresses it to me or Todd. It always felt like my father was a single parent who had a woman that tags along every once in a while.

 

“It’s better late than never,” was all she said before my phone began to ring.

 

I shook my head at her vague answer. Of course she doesn’t want to talk about it. Why did I even try, anyway?

 

“Hello?”

“Ava!”

“Hanna? What’s wrong?”

She sounds frantic and I could hear her trying to get the words out through the sobs.

 

“It’s Todd.”

“What happened?”

In between the sobs, the only thing I could make out was, “Cardiac arrest.”